Page 7 of Forgotten Deeds

“Good girl,” I praise her.

Watching as her hot little body convulses, I turn around and walk off. It’s that, or shoot a load in my pants.

Oh little angel, you’re playing with fire tempting the devil.

Chapter Four

Lily

“Mama!” The next morning, a little bundle of energy jumps onto my bed.

“Hey, sweetie,” I say, kissing the top of my daughter’s head and wrapping my arms around her. I desperately need about three more hours of sleep, but I’ll take extra cuddles over sleep any day. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yes! I had chocolate ice cream,” she tells me excitedly.

“I heard all about it. How’s your ear? Does it still hurt?”

“It’s better.”

“Good. Why don’t you go potty?” I remind her.

“I already pottyed,” she tells me.

“Such a big girl,” I tell her proudly, smoothing her hair. “Then let’s get ready—you’re going to spend the day with your dad while I’m at class.”

“Okay,” she says, less than enthused.

“It’s going to be so much fun!” I try to get her excited. Her dad’s a shit co-parent, but he’s the only father she’s got, and so I try to encourage their relationship. It would help matters if he would pay some child support every now and then, and not miss so many visits because something from “work” came up.

“I guess,” she says skeptically.

“Of course it will be! How about we go to the diner for pancakes first?”

That perks her up. “Yes! Pancakes!”

“Let’s do it,” I tell her.

We get ready, and after applying another round of Iris’ ear drops, I give her two outfit options to choose from. I learned early on to choose my battles wisely, and battling over clothes with a precocious four-year old isn’t one of them.

“This one,” she says, choosing her polka dot dress and leggings.

I let Iris get dressed herself, and we walk to the door. “Mama, flowers!” she says excitedly, running over to the kitchen table and touching a petal.

“Lilies. Aren’t they pretty?”

“I want flowers for my name!”

“Maybe next time.” I smile at her.

We make the short drive to our favorite diner, and Iris eats her body weight in pancakes before we continue on to the park.

Iris runs to the playground, climbing the ladder to the slide. I wave at my independent girl, and she waves back with a giggle as she slides down like a little rocket.

Checking my phone, nine o’clock has come and gone, and no sign of her dad. My anger building, I give it a few more minutes before calling Harrison. It goes straight to voicemail.

Calling again, this time I leave a message. “This is Lily. Iris and I are at the park. You were supposed to meet us at nine. I’m going to wait ten more minutes; if I don’t hear from you, we’re leaving.”

I hang up and stew for exactly ten more minutes, but no sign of Iris’ dad.

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